


The Figures Behind Me

by FireFaceOutlook



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14883062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook
Summary: His skin was pale and the wound on his neck was weeping blood.  And, as he stared at his reflection, he realized his chest wasn't moving.  He wasn'tbreathing.  Was he--“Dead?  Yes, I'm afraid so.”





	1. Go Kill Yourse- Oh Wait, You Already Did

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Top of the mornin' to ya, laddies, and welcome to my story. I hope you find it as fun to read as it was for me to write. Hopefully it turns out as good as I think it is. Before we begin, please know that suicide is not a subject to be taken lightly and if you're struggling with suicidal thoughts, then please, _please_ talk to someone and get help. Otherwise, please enjoy!**

When Seán opened his eyes, he was laying on the cold tile of his bathroom floor. His head pounded, much like it usually did when he drank too much the night before, and he slowly sat up, trying to remember what happened because his entire body _throbbed_ in pain. He paused at the sight of the bloody knife laying by his knee, and the smears of red staining his shirt and the floor around him. His mind abruptly cleared and he remembered thinking about killing himself, tired of trying to make his life work and failing so hard. His depressive spells got bad, but they'd never gotten that bad.

 _I won't be trying to do that ever again,_ he swore to himself, reaching up to rub his throat and instead finding his fingers sliding beneath his skin. He choked in pain, eyes widening, and scrambled to his feet, moving to the mirror. His skin was pale and the wound on his neck was weeping blood. And, as he stared at his reflection, he realized his chest wasn't moving. He wasn't _breathing_. Was he--

_**“Dead? Yes, I'm afraid so.”** _

Jack, as he was called by his friends and family, jumped when he noticed the man standing behind him. _**How long has he been standing there?!**_ He was a couple inches taller than Jack, with grey skin and wine red eyes, dressed in a suit and arms folded behind his back in a professional manner.

“Who are you?” Jack asked, turning around to face him and thrown off by the sound of his own voice. He didn't sound any different to himself, but he hadn't really expected to be _able_ to speak with a slit throat.

_**“Just call me Dark.”** _

Dark certainly suited him. Everything about him lived up to that name, from his appearance to his posture, and even his voice.

**_“I am here to collect your soul,_ Seán William McLoughlin.”**

Jack paled in response to his unanswered question, looking down at himself – specifically his chest, where he assumed his soul might be. Dark let out a soft chuckle that echoed uncomfortably in Jack's ears.

_**“You are your soul, Seán.”** _

“Jack,” the Irishman corrected without thinking. He didn't really understand being his own soul, but he supposed that just had something to do with him being a ghost now. “Call me Jack. Please.”

Dark inclined his head in response, saying, _**“Follow me,”**_ before leaving the bathroom. Jack took one last glance around the bathroom, then at his reflection, before following after the grey man.

“Um... So, are you a demon?” Jack asked, hoping that wasn't a rude question because it felt pretty damn necessary to inquire about.

_**“Of sorts.”** _

_Great,_ Jack thought. It wasn't a completely surprising realization, though, since he did just kill himself, and apparently that ensured a one-way ticket downstairs.

Dark led the way to the front door and opened it. Jack wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he found himself facing a deep black void.

_**“After you.”** _

He expected to be sent plunging into an abyss when he stepped out the door, but instead he almost tripped flat onto his face when he found the ground where it normally would be. A hand on his elbow kept him upright, then Dark was passing him to take the lead again. As they walked, the shadows seemed to deepen around them, though Dark was never any harder to see. Jack found himself growing colder as they continued, as well. He was only clad in blue, flamingo-printed shorts and a simple (bloodstained) t-shirt – he didn't even have on any socks or shoes. He crossed his arms to preserve warmth that didn't exist and noticed that Dark didn't look the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“I'm cold.”

_**“So is Hell, it will be good practice for you.”** _

Jack was a little surprised at the blunt answer, but it was also morbidly amusing enough that it got a weak chuckle out of him. He supposed he hadn't fully come to terms with his fate yet.

“So you're not going to offer me your jacket, then?”

Dark ignored him for a full minute, and Jack pretty much gave up trying to coax any more responses out of him in favor for rubbing his arms in an attempt to quell the goosebumps that had risen on his skin and peering around at the blackness as if he could see something if he just looked hard enough. He flinched and stumbled when something dropped onto his shoulders; it wasn't heavy, but it was unexpected enough that it startled him. Dark was easier to see when his white button-up wasn't being covered. The suit jacket wrapped around Jack wasn't exactly warm, but it was like having a thin sweater between his skin and a brisk winter wind, so he stuffed his arms into the sleeves and wrapped the baggy (for him) material around himself tightly.

“Thanks.”

Dark didn't reply. After a few more minutes of walking through continuous, unbroken shadows, Jack finally noticed that their path was slowly lightening, from black to various shades of grey. He hadn't noticed just how silent their walk through the void had been until his bare feet were slapping softly against a gleaming metal floor. His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he took in the hallway they were now traveling through.

“What is this place?” he asked. “This can't be Hell...”

_**“This is indeed Hell. Unbeknownst to mortals, demons spend most of their time on the surface. Hell is simply where demon contracts are forged, or damned souls are tortured.”** _

Jack immediately felt ten times more nervous than he was before. His chest tightened, even though he still wasn't breathing, and it felt like the realization of what was happening was finally hitting him. He killed himself, and he was in Hell, and he was likely going to be tortured for all eternity. He decided to go with his normal tactic to keep the panic from overwhelming him: he talked.

“S-so does this mean I get to meet the Devil?”

 _ **“Rumor has it that no one has ever met the Devil and survived the experience. His very presence is enough to incinerate a soul until there is nothing left.”**_ Dark glanced over his shoulder with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. _**“I don't believe you would enjoy that.”**_

Jack honestly wasn't sure what he'd go with if he was given the choice of infinite torture or an excruciating (and permanent) second death.

_**“We have arrived.”** _

Jack looked up from studying the cracked, leftover paint on his toenails from a dare he'd lost weeks ago. Dark had stopped them in front of an office door with _“ ~~ChaoticMonki~~ Cryaotic”_ on the blurry window. The demon held out a hand and it took a moment for Jack to realize that he wanted his jacket back. It was with great reluctance that Jack handed it over, as it was only marginally warmer in the building(?) than it had been in the void. Dark knocked on the door after he pulled the jacket back on.

“Come in,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

 _ **“This is where I leave you,”**_ Dark announced as he opened the door, gesturing for Jack to enter the room. _**“I will be back to collect you depending on your decision.”**_

Jack turned to face him, even more questions burning on the tip of his tongue, but Dark was already shutting the door, and he was left alone with a stranger. He quickly turned back around to face them, figuring that he probably shouldn't be rude to any inhabitants of Hell. The whole room resembled a normal office; there were a couple metal cabinets with rusty corners, a humming fan plugged in in the corner despite the already frigid atmosphere (both figuratively and literally), and a desk covered in a couple stacks of paper. Seated behind the desk was a man wearing an expressionless mask. Literally. It was a white, circular mask with two circles for eyes and a straight line below them for a mouth. His hair was messy, and the longer Jack looked at it, the more he couldn't get a grasp on what its actual color was. One minute it looked brown, then it was blond, then it was red, and it kept changing from there. He had on a plain white t-shirt, just like Jack, except 'SUP?' was written across it in bold black letters.

“Have a seat,” the man said, waving to one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

Jack chose the chair closest to the wall, sitting on his hands in an attempt to ward off the chill.

“Alright. First things first: my name is Cry, and if you make the identification process easy for me, we'll get along just fine. Got it, _friend_?”

The room seemed to drop a few degrees and Jack quickly nodded. The masked man dragged a paper out of the middle of one of the stacks, then snagged a pen Jack hadn't noticed from the edge of the desk.

“You are Seán William McLoughlin, age twenty-eight. You're originally from Ireland, and your cause of death was suicide. Right?”

Jack swallowed thickly and nodded. Cry went over a few more basic points on the paper, things Jack would expect to hear in a doctor's office or a job interview. 

“We're almost done. Is there a name you prefer to be referred to as?”

“Yeah. Everyone calls-- _called_ me Jack.”

Cry nodded, scribbling that down. “Okay. Now for the most important question. Jack, would you like to become a demon and collect the souls of typical dicks, wreak havoc on the world above, and be a general nuisance for exorcists and demon hunters? Or you could take your chances with eternal damnation. Please, take your time. I know it's a hard decision.” His subtle sarcasm sounded like it was accompanied by a smirk behind the mask.

Jack blanched and the words were slipping from his lips before he could even think them through. “I want to become a demon.”

Cry set the paper he was holding down on the desk, spinning it to face Jack. Then he plucked a fountain pen out of thin air (literally, one second his fingers were empty, the next they were not) and offered it to him.

“Sign at the bottom there,” he instructed.

As Jack reached out to take the pen, somehow he cut himself on the tip instead. Even though he was a ghost, technically, and shouldn't have been able to bleed, blood dripped onto the dotted line he was supposed to sign and the pen disappeared. As Jack watched, the blood _moved_ , writhing on the paper until a word laid there in bloody horror film-worthy chicken scratch: _**Anti Septiceye**_.

“Welcome to Hell, _Anti_.” Jack dragged his eyes away from the paper and flinched when he saw that Cry's mask had changed. Instead of a flat line for a mouth, there was instead a jagged pattern, much like a mark drawn to given sharp teeth to a jack-o'-lantern. The circles that represented his eyes were glowing red. “Enjoy your stay, friend.” 

Then Jack was suddenly standing in the middle of the hallway from before. There were no doors, no indication of where he was, but before he could get himself too worked up, a hand settled on his shoulder. He jumped and Dark's familiar chuckle filled the hallway.

_**“I knew you would make the right choice. Come with me.”** _


	2. Welcome to Markiplier Mansion - The House of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where is our 'destination'?” he asked, sticking as close to Dark as he dared after the demon released his shoulder.  
>  _ **“I have been assigned as your...trainer, for lack of a better term, since I brought your soul to Hell. I will be helping you along with your transition into a demonic entity. So for the time being, we will be sharing a residence.”**_  
>  “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Top of the mornin' to ya, laddies! In this chapter, we will be introduced to some of the egos. Just a warning: I'm not writing out Dr. Scheeplestein or Jack's (or the other Egos') accents because I know you'll all be reading their lines with their voices and accents in your heads anyways. Enjoy!**

As Dark guided Jack down the hall, they didn't pass by anyone else. Jack found it a little unsettling that Hell was so void of life.

“Is... Is Cry the only one here besides us?” Jack asked, clenching his teeth to cease their chattering. The cold was really beginning to seep beneath his skin.

 _ **“Of course not,”**_ Dark replied as if that were a ridiculous thought – which it probably was, to him. _**“There are others, but it would likely not be in your best interest to meet them. Yet.”**_

Jack just nodded. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of another door that appeared out of the blue. _“Dr. Iplier”_ was printed across the front in blocky red letters, and below it, in neat green cursive, was _“Dr. Schneeplestein”_. Jack could've sworn he saw Dark frowning at the names for a split second before he twisted the knob and pushed the door open, waving Jack into the room. He stopped just inside the doorway when he found himself looking into a mirror – or rather, he was meeting the eyes of a man who looked almost like a mirror image of himself.

“Ah! There you are!”

Jack was wrapped in an unexpected hug and he shot a panicked look over at Dark, unsure of what to do, but the demon looked too surprised to offer any assistance. The German-accented doctor pulled away, holding Jack by the shoulders at arms-length.

“Welcome! I am Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

“N-nice to meet you. I'm--”

“I know who you are, Jack.” Schneeplestein's smile broadened at Jack's confused frown. “I was made from a part of your soul when you died. We are parts of a whole.” 

This whole situation was making Jack's head spin, and that was before the Dark look-alike walked out of the back room Jack hadn't noticed before.

“Oh, welcome back, Dark. And I assume this is the Jack that this idiot wouldn't stop blathering about.”

“ _Entschuldigung?_ ”

Henrik released Jack and whipped around with an offended expression on his face. As he and the other man – Dr. Iplier, Jack assumed – began bickering, Jack turned to Dark.

“What is going on?”

_**“When a soul contains more energy than its shell – in this case, you – can contain, it forms a a new container for the excess. In this case, it happens to be Schneeplestein. During your transition into a demon, your soul will grow stronger and you will probably produce more containers.”** _

Jack glanced over at the doctors. “Do you have more than one?”

 _ **“Yes.”**_ That's all Dark offered in response as he cleared his throat, catching the attention of their clones. _**“If you two don't mind, I brought Jack here for a reason.”**_

“Of course. I will--”

“ _Nein!_ Jack is _my_ patient!” Schneeplestein interrupted, stepping between Jack and Dr. Iplier as the latter stepped forward. “ _I_ want to operate on him!”

“Operate?” Jack repeated faintly.

_**“Unless you'd rather continue to bleed on your clothes.”** _

Oh, that made sense.

_**“Dr. Schneeplestein, as Jack's container, you will be his personal physician.”** _

Henrick looked pleased, shooting a smug look over his shoulder at the pouting Dr. Iplier before leading Jack further into the room and seating him on the edge of a hospital bed. The stitches Jack received didn't hurt as much as he was expecting, but by the time Schneep was done, his lab coat, shirt, and gloves were covered in blood (though his lab coat had already had some blood stains from when he hugged Jack).

“Good as new!” the doctor cheered, flinging his bloody gloves the general direction of the closest trashcan. “How do you feel, Jack?”

“I feel...better.” And he did. Though he wasn't _breathing_ , having the gaping cut in his neck closed felt like a breath of fresh air. “Thank you, Schneep,” Jack said as he stood. 

“ _Das ist kein Problem._ Now, if you tear your stitches, just come back and I'll do them again.”

Dark, who had been talking to Dr. Iplier, stood as well.

_**“Come along, Jack.”** _

Jack hurried after him, waving back at Schneeplestein and Iplier as he followed his escort out the door.

  


When they walked out of the doctor's office, Jack abruptly stopped, gawking at the sight of the hall. It was that of a _hospital_ , not the same path they took to get to their containers' room. Speaking of, as Jack glanced over his shoulder, their room was no longer there. He felt like he was two minutes from breaking down – there was too much happening in such a short amount of time.

_**“Are you coming?”** _

Dark was waiting for him at the end of the hall, which opened into the front lobby, and he looked different, but at the same time, not. It felt like Jack had double vision, but the images were overlapping. He could still see the grey-scale Dark, but also a version that had tan skin and warm brown eyes. Jack swallowed thickly, hands shaking as he quickly joined his escort. Dark seemed to notice his nervousness and rested a hand on his shoulder.

_**“I know it's a lot to take in. Try to hold it together until we get to our destination.”** _

Jack latched onto the potential conversation topic as he nodded and let Dark guide him through the lobby and out the front doors. No one gave them a second-glance, despite Jack's bloodstained clothes and lack of footwear. The sun outside was blinding compared to the lights in Hell's hallways and the doctors' office, especially after the trip through the void.

“Where is our 'destination'?” he asked, sticking as close to Dark as he dared after the demon released his shoulder.

_**“I have been assigned as your...trainer, for lack of a better term, since I brought your soul to Hell. I will be helping you along with your transition into a demonic entity. So for the time being, we will be sharing a residence.”** _

“Oh.”

Their conversation ended there and silence settled between them, though it wasn't too uncomfortable. Jack was used to being able to ramble on and on when he wanted to. Now, though, his mind felt like mush and he just wanted to pass out somewhere soft and sleep for a few hours (or days). After about ten minutes of walking, with Jack gazing blankly in the distance for a majority of it, they finally arrived. Jack's eyes were wide as he gaped at the sight of the mansion they were in front of. Dark chuckled as he pushed open the black gate, ushering Jack onto the stone pathway cutting through the lush green front lawn.

 _ **“The humans do not see us as we are,”**_ he explained as they approached the front porch, pulling a key from one of his pockets. _**“The house is also cloaked from their sight. As far as the mortals are concerned, this is an office building.”**_

 _What is up with demons and offices?_ Jack wondered as Dark unlocked the door.

_**“I should also warn you,”**_ Dark added as he pushed the door open, _**“that we will not be alone here.”** _

Jack's confused expression turned into one of surprise as he was pulled into the house by two pairs of hands. Dark followed, nudging the door shut behind himself and concealing a smirk as Jack was bombarded by the observations of two more of Dark's containers.

“What a fascinating creature, Jim,” one mused. “Look at the color of his hair! It's so _green_!”

“Maybe he's a nature spirit, Jim,” the other one whispered, tugging a few messy strands to their full length with the hand that wasn't holding a camera. “We must be careful not to get on his bad side. It appears that he's already feasted on disrespectful people.” He gestured towards the bloodstain on Jack's shirt.

“No, Jim. Look here.”

Reporter Jim had lifted Jack's chin with one hand and was pointing to the recently-sealed wound.

“What an amazing discovery, Jim!” Cameraman Jim exclaimed, zooming in on the neat line of stitches.

Before they could go on and make Jack more uncomfortable than he already was, Dark spoke up.

_**“Good afternoon, boys.”** _

They both snapped to attention – well, they released Jack and turned to face him, and that meant Dark had a brief window to get his point across.

“Mr. Dark!” they both shouted.

He was sure about a month had passed since the last time he was in the mansion and saw them, but then again, time worked differently in Hell, so it could've been a week more or less.

“This is Jack. He is going to be staying with us for a while.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Jim,” Reporter Jim said, shaking one of Jack's hands, while his brother shook the other. “And this is my brother, Jim.”

“O-okay.”

_**“I'm going to show Jack to his room. Why don't you let the others know that we have a newcomer?”** _

Reporter Jim immediately charged up the stairs. Cameraman Jim was close behind, but paused halfway up, peering back down at them.

“ _Is_ Jack a nature spirit?”

Dark just smiled. Jim's eyes lit up and he continued chasing after his brother. Dark turned to Jack, who looked a little less startled that before.

 _ **“They are a couple of my newest containers,”**_ he explained as he beckoned for Jack to follow him. _**"I find it best to just entertain their ideas until they're far from the risk of unraveling."**_

That left Jack with a whole slew of new questions on containers, but he decided to keep them to himself for the time being. They only reached the top of the stairs before they ran into their next container. Fortunately, this one was much more calm than the Jim brothers.

 _“The Host welcomes Dark home,”_ he said, _“while Dark's charge whispers in shock--”_

“ _Jesus,_ ” Jack hissed, recoiling slightly in shock when he realized that the other man was accurately narrating what was happening despite the thick, pink-stained bandages wound around his eyes.

_**“Jack, this is the Host. He makes sure this place isn't discovered on accident, and he informs me if any of my containers or associates are detained or found by demon hunters.”** _

The Host offered a hand and Jack stepped forward, shaking it.

 _“The Host extends his most gracious welcome to Jack and hopes they can become better associated at a later date.”_ The Host's head turned towards Dark slightly. _“The Host would also like to inform Dark that Wilford Warfstache and Bim Trimmer are the only residents currently unaccounted for.”_

_**“Thank you, Host.”** _

They continued down the hall as the blind man began descending the stairs and soon they were in front of one of two doors at the end.

 _ **“This is your room. If you don't want the Jims barging in at odd hours, I suggest locking the door.”**_ He gestured behind him. _**“This is the bathroom, in case you have need of it.”**_

“Thanks. I think I'm going to sleep, if that's alright.” Dark inclined his head and left Jack to his room.

After Jack shut (and locked) the door, he studied his room. It was bigger than the room in his old home, with soft carpet underfoot and a beige wall. There was a queen sized mattress in the corner with a dark blue comforter and two big pillows leaning against the headboard. Across from it sat a desk with a rolling chair, a laptop and lamp on the surface. A bookcase was next to that, full to bursting and as Jack approached it, he recognized a few titles of his favorite books. The door to the closet was next in line and when Jack opened it, a folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He bent over to grab it.

 _'Dear Anti,'_ the note read in neat print. _'I get gifted a lot of these, especially the green ones, but I don't want or need them, and you look like a hoodie kind of guy, so enjoy, friend! - Cry'_

Jack's eyes went from the note to the closet and he found it fully of hoodies of different colors. There were at least five green ones, a couple red, blue, and black ones, and a single white one. He liked them, but he couldn't wear them without getting them dirty, so he closed the closet and turned towards the dresser that was next to his bed. Opening the top drawer, he found that it led into a void like the one that he walked through earlier with Dark. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he dared, then shoved his arm into it up to his shoulder. His hands brushed fabric and he dragged out a pair of boxers. They looked like a pair that he owned...when he was alive. Going into the next drawer, also full of a void, he got a black t-shirt.

He kind of wanted a shower, but he wanted sleep even more, so he got changed, dropped his dirty clothes by the corner of his bed to take care of later, and flopped onto the mattress. It was the right kind of soft and he fell asleep within just a few moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** _Entschuldigung – excuse me_  
>  _Nein – no_  
>  _Das ist kein Problem – it is no problem_  
>  **I didn't use Google Translate for the German, but I _did_ look the words up online, so hopefully they're accurate. If anyone has any corrections, feel free to lay them on me. Also, which Egos would _you_ guys want to see next? Please let me know in the comments, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Buh-bye!**

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: So the prompt I used as a basis is from @the-modern-typewriter on tumblr:**   
>  _“I'm cold.”_   
>  _“So is hell, it will be good practice for you.”_   
>  _“So you're not going to offer me your jacket then?”_   
>  **Also, notes about this story: Cry's hair color hasn't been confirmed, as far as I can tell, even though a lot of fanart showcases it as being brown (or blond, in rare cases), so that's why Cry's hair is magic and doesn't have a specific color. Also, does anyone know what Cry's role in this story is?**   
>  **This Dark is not like canon!Dark for reasons that I will reveal later in the story. It's pretty easy to guess, though, if you wanna give that a shot.**   
>  **I plan on adding Pewdiepie in here, for sure, and I'm not sure if I'll use other YouTubers, but you can leave suggestions if you want. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll probably need more demons and some humans, so throw me some ideas if have any! :3**   
>  **And finally, this is my first time writing a story with real people as the characters. This is purely a work of fiction, and in no way represents these people as they are in real life. Please respect Jack and Mark and Cry and anyone else I use in this story. I hope you enjoyed this fanfiction, and I'll see you in the next chapter. Buh-bye!**


End file.
